


Dead Men Tell No Fairy Tales

by Emma_Wolf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Wolf/pseuds/Emma_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short story about Neal and Killian, rivalry, and trickery. Takes place roughly after the episode The Tower in season three. Killian goes searching for Neal, who is still missing after the curse that brought them all back to Storybrooke. Here there be violence and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Men Tell No Fairy Tales

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that I wrote to try to be creative again, not sure if I succeeded. "Dead men tell no fairy tales" popped into my head and I had to explore it.

Killian wondered when it was exactly that he stopped viewing Neal as a rival for Emma but as something else...what was it exactly? Killian didn’t know the word. But it was that feeling that drove him to search for Neal after he went missing, presumably a victim of the Wicked Witch. Or maybe it was an excuse to spend time with Emma, who was looking too.

Killian and Neal’s relationship had certainly taken twists and turns throughout the years. From rescuer and reluctant rescued, to something like father and son, to the one who ruined his perfect family. Then, with the entrance of Emma, to rivals. And now again to rescuer and rescued. And the something else that Killian thought of now.

“What do you see in him?” he had asked Emma one day when they searched for him in the woods outside Storybrooke.

“He’s my son’s father. I should try to find him.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

She put up the wall like she always did and shrugged.

“Let me in, Swan.”

“It’s a contradiction. He liked adventure, but he liked knowing where he was going. Security in danger. It made me feel safe. Even when we were on the run from someone or other. He knew his limits but tried to challenge them without picking on the biggest bully in the yard. He challenged me too.”

“And now? You’ve both changed since then. Now what do you see?”

“Security in history. It feels safe to tread on familiar ground.”

“Even after he broke your heart?”

That she wouldn’t answer.

Emma wasn’t familiar to Killian. She was still exciting and new to someone who hadn’t seen a change in 28 years. But he knew it wasn’t the novelty of her that attracted him. Killian saw the same thing in Emma that she said in Neal. She was a contradiction—a rebellious sheriff.

Neal was only familiar. But there was something to be said for that too.

Killian found Neal later that day—the flying monkey with eyes that somehow reminded him of something—captured him, and poured the potion Regina had created over him. Killian was sick of magic but still in awe of the way he transformed. Like Neal was melting back into his human body.

He lay on the ground cold and naked. Killian threw his leather coat on him and woke him up. He took the next several minutes filling him in on some of the details he had missed.  
As they walked up the main road into town, Neal appeared to be in a surprisingly good mood. He had just been transformed back to a human from a flying monkey and learned that his father was still (probably) alive, so he had good reason to be.

Nonetheless, it irritated his companion. “You seem chipper,” Killian said, trying not to sound sullen that his chief rival for Emma’s affections was back in the game. He had been the one to rescue Neal, after all.

Neal smiled, almost looking coy. “Who’d have thought it, you know?”

Killian furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You and me. Come on. Do I have to spell it out?!”

“I know you’re apt to think the worst of me. Pirate and all. But I’ve some honor left and not about to let a comrade remain one of those flying beasts.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then perhaps you had better tell me.”

“I mean you and me,” Neal said again, as though repeating it would bring more clarity to the subject. “There was a time you were practically my father. Now we’re after the same girl.”

_Girl._ The word grated Killian. Emma was a woman. But when Neal knew her she had only been eighteen. And that was all he knew. He knew nothing of how his betrayal hurt her and how her choices forced her to age beyond her years. Neal nursed his own wounds from abandonment, but they were nothing compared to love betrayed. Killian, however, he knew the pain of betrayal. And he knew what it was like to lose love. That’s how he knew he and Emma were perfect for each other. Neal was only a distraction.

“Kind of incestuous, isn’t it?”

Neal shrugged. “It seems that’s how it is here. I don’t think we’ll end up on Jerry Springer or anything.”

“Jerry who?”

“Never mind.” Neal smiled, enjoying that Killian didn’t get the reference. In three hundred years, Killian hadn’t changed. Neverland, Storybrooke, the Enchanted Forest, or New York City, he always wore that outdated leather coat and couldn’t be bothered to get a less ridiculous prosthetic. That’s how Neal knew he and Emma were perfect for each other. They were both part of this modern world. Though he had to admit, today he was thankful for the leather coat. It kept him warm now, and Killian wore only a thin white shirt himself.

“What happened while I was gone? Did they find out who cast the new curse?”

“We know who we’re dealing with, but we don’t know who it is here.”

“And Henry?” Neal asked. “Does he remember me?”

Killian shook his head. “Sorry, mate. Not enough memory potion for the lad.”

Neal gritted his teeth and nodded. “I bet you just loved that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Neal stopped in his tracks and turned to face his rival eye to eye. “If Henry doesn’t remember me, it makes it that much easier for Emma to replace me.”

Killian had failed to see the benefit in it before, but now that it was pointed out to him, he couldn’t deny it. “If the boy is your only tie to her, this is going to be a lot easier than I thought.”

“Even easier if you’d have left me as a monkey.”

Killian shrugged. “I don’t know that turning you back has improved your appearance.”

“Good thing Emma’s not so shallow.”

“Aye, she’d have liked getting a little street organ and playing a tune while you danced.”

Neal laughed. The sound of it took Killian back three hundred years to when Neal was a boy. No, before that. It was Milah’s laugh. Neal was so familiar.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

Killian shrugged, embarrassed to have been caught staring. “Emma told me what she saw in you,” he said, hoping Neal would think it a non sequitur.

“What was it?”

“Security in history. And it just reminded me of us. Of everything I’ve done in my three hundred years, of all the people I’ve known, you’re the only one left I’ve any connection to.”

“Is that why you saved me?”

Killian closed his eyes and shook his head. “I still don’t know why I did that, mate. If it’s Emma I want, I should have left you. This fairy tale will end with me with a broken heart.”

“Maybe it’s not Emma you want.”

They both realized it the instant Neal said it. All the banter and the fighting and rivalry over Emma was just an excuse, a means of projecting their own emotions. Neal like the love Killian had lost. Killian like the family Neal wanted. And Emma. Not desired by them but standing between them. Killian tried to pour all of these emotions into their kiss. Rough lips against a face in need of a shave felt so right to both of them.

Neal pulled Killian to the side of the road and threw him among the dead leaves. “How long have you known?”

He shook his head. “Just now or for three hundred years. Or somewhere in between. You?”

“The same.”

Neal pulled off Killian’s leather coat and stood once again naked in the cold Maine winter. But with Killian’s arms around him, with his lips on his, he didn’t feel the cold, just a sudden need. He pulled off Killian’s thin shirt and buried his hands in his thick chest hair. So like someone caught in the past to not know about modern grooming techniques. Tamara had hated Neal’s chest hair and persuaded him to wax. It was a habit he had kept up during his time back in the Enchanted Forest, though not without some awkward questions regarding his seemingly insatiable need for candles and rags.

Killian undid his belt buckles, more adept with his hook then one might have thought. Three hundred years could teach you a lot of tricks.

“I want to see all of you,” Neal said.

Killian was only too eager to comply and dropped his pants to his ankles. Hungrily, Neal reached for Killian’s cock, taking it into his mouth as they both moaned. Killian’s hips bucked, trying to get more of himself in Neal’s soft mouth. His hand curled through Neal’s untidy hair. His hook dug into Neal’s shoulder, making him wince.

“Careful with that.”

Killian looked down and saw a small trickle of blood where his hook had none too gently grazed Neal’s skin. The cut was a few inches long but not deep. Still, he was being rougher than he had intended. “Sorry, love,” he whispered. Neal only shook his head and went back to trying to make Killian come.

And he did. Loudly and forcefully, spreading his semen over the dead leaves in the woods outside of town.

With a smile on his face, Neal stood up. He put Killian coat back on and continued down the road that would take them to Storybrooke.

Puzzled, Killian called after him. “What about you?” Killian had a sense of honor and fairness. He wasn’t about to let Neal walk off wanting.

Neal turned to face Killian. “I got what I need,” he said. Absentmindedly, he brought his fingers to where his shoulder met his neck. To the slight wound Killian’s hook had left him.

Killian ran to catch up with Neal. “What?” he asked. He grabbed Neal’s arm to stop him from walking off again.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Come on, mate,” he said condescendingly. “What was all this about for you? Are you really that hard up?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Neal shook Killian’s arm off his. “What’s Emma going to say when she finds out?” he asked, the challenge clearly in his voice.

“You’re still thinking of Emma?”

“I’m always thinking of Emma. What’s she going to say when she finds out you held me down with your hook and forced me to give you a blow job?”

“And you gave in over that scratch?”

Neal ran his finger over the wound again. Killian had to admit it looked worse now with the story of a sexual assault behind it than it had in the throes of passion. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what Emma would believe. “Once I show her this,” Neal shook his head, trying to find the right words to describe the fate he had sealed for Killian. “You can forget about Emma.”

“You think she’s going to believe your little fairy tale?”

“It’s no fairy tale. It happened.” Leaving Killian still stunned, Neal started walking again.

“Neal, wait! Can we talk about this?”

Neal didn’t answer. He didn’t even turn around. He just shook his head and held up his hand, waving good bye.

Maybe Neal was right. With Emma’s little superpower, she would know that Neal wasn’t lying when he told her part truths. He kicked at a heavy rock by his boot. It was common knowledge, at least among pirates, that there was one surefire way to keep your secrets. The earth loosened its hold on the rock. Killian bent down to pick it up. With Neal out of the way, the path was clear to Emma.

Was this what he wanted? When he came into the woods only a few hours ago, he had been so sure. But now?

Without giving it a second thought, he let the rock fly. It missed Neal, but the message was clear.

“What the fuck?” Neal hissed. “You could have killed me!”

Killian shrugged. “If you gave me a blow job over that little kitten scratch, what would you do when I threaten to bash your head in?”

Neal raised his eyebrows, challenging him again. “What do you want, Hook? You want to give me a better story to tell Emma?”

Killian gave a half frown with a mock-apology. “Dead men tell no fairy tales, mate,” he said as he took the rock to Neal’s head.

Killian put his coat back on and continued down the road to Storybrooke. He was in a better mood now than he had been when he started his quest to find Neal. He reasoned thinking of a way to lead Emma to Neal’s body without telling a lie shouldn’t be too hard. “I found him dead,” he practiced saying. It was true in its own way.


End file.
